


Body Language

by Skylily



Series: Camping Trip [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Camping AU, M/M, Minty100, MintyFicNet, minty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylily/pseuds/Skylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>minty + "we’re hiking and shit, I think I sprained my ankle and oh, okay, sure, please carry my piggyback back to the campsite, yes, the first aid kit is in the lean-to."</p>
<p>edited the prompt a little bit but I don't think you'll mind ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Language

The next morning, Monty woke up in Miller’s arms, blinking drowsily. He had slept peacefully through the whole night, not a single nightmare, for the first time in months.

Now, the two walked side by side, lagging behind the rest of the group as they hiked a scenery trail. Monty loved it; he didn’t get out much, preferring to interact with his technology instead, but these woods were beautiful and he had to admit that.

Miller had been relatively quiet that morning and it was making Monty anxious. Had they gone too fast? Monty’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Stop thinking so hard, it’s hurting my head,” Miller spoke, side-eyeing him.

Looking up, Monty tried to find his answers in Miller’s body language. Monty had always been the person to watch others from the side lines, so he was pretty good at getting a reading at others. Miller’s posture said ‘calm and composed’, back straight and shoulders relaxed, but his fleeting eyes that wouldn’t meet Monty’s said ‘nervous and uncomfortable’. Monty looked away, stomach churning, and said nothing.

Monty was vaguely aware that the boy next to him kept swiveling back and forth between the trail and Monty but he tried not to focus on that and kept his own focus on the rocky trail.

“Look, if last night made you uncomfortable—“

Head jerking to look over at Miller in shock, Monty paid no attention to the trail for a mere two seconds and that was all it took for him to tumble forward over a large rock. With a shriek, Monty fell forward, hands falling out in front of him to catch himself.

“Monty!” Miller yelped, grasping for the boy but not quite fast enough. Monty landed with a thud and a cry.

“Fuck.” Monty grumbled, picking himself up from the ground into a sitting position. He’d fallen in front of a tree and now used the trunk to rest his back against, pulling his knees up to his chest to examine his ankle.  
“Are you okay?” Miller asked, gently holding Monty’s foot to look at his ankle. He moved it slightly and Monty hissed in pain.

“No, I think it’s sprained.” Monty shifted it again and bit hard on his lip. “Yep, definitely sprained.”

“What happened?” Raven jogged over, worry evident in her quick pace. Clarke and Wells followed behind her, the only other members who’d joined them on the early hike.

“Monty tripped over a rock and sprained his ankle,” Miller said, not unkindly. For the first time that morning, he met Monty’s eyes and the worry was clear in his brown eyes.

“I’m fine, guys, but I think I’m gonna need to head back.”

Raven helped Monty up from the ground, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Alright, I’ll help you back.”

“I’ll take him, Ray. You guys can finish your hike.” Miller said, stepping forward to shift Monty’s weight onto him.

The girl glanced between the two and Monty looked at her with wide eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you guys were the one who wanted to do this anyway, right?” Miller shrugged. “You go on ahead.”

Raven met Monty’s eyes and gave him a small smile, a twinkle in her eyes. “Alright, thanks Miller.”

“You sure you’ll be okay, Mont?” Wells asked, shuffling awkwardly beside Clarke. He must feel embarrassed about their conversation from yesterday.

Monty gave him an reassuring smile, glancing over at Miller. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Feel better,” Clarke said, squeezing his hand gently. Her blonde hair was braided back, a small cap atop her head to fend off the early sun’s rays. She wore a nice black-and-red checkered flannel, sleeves bunched at the elbows. She looked like one of the hipsters he’d seen on Tumblr, a . “Take good care of him, Miller. The first aid kit is in your tent, right, Mont?”

He nodded. “Yeah, should be; and thanks, Clarke.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand again before backing away. She adjusted the bag on her back. “Alright, I’ll let you guys head back. Wells, Ray; you ready?”

They nodded and smiled over at Monty, offering farewells and wishes of health, before turning away and heading back up the trail side by side.

Miller shifted, and Monty leaned too heavily on the wrong side. He let out a hiss before leaning his weight back onto Miller, stopping.

“Shit, sorry.” Miller readjusted, but every time they took a step forward, pain still shot up Monty’s spine.

“Miller!” A voice shouted. Raven Reyes stopped ahead, facing towards them. Her long black hair was held in a high ponytail and a fitting red tank top and black shorts clothed her. 

Monty dreaded what Raven was going to say. What else was there to say?

The girl smirked. “Monty has a low ass pain tolerance. You may just have to carry the poor bastard.”

“Raven,” Monty gaped.

Miller grinned. “Good to know, thanks.”

“Any time.” And just like that, the mechanic raced up the hill after Clarke and Wells, disappearing around a bend.

“You do not have to carry me, Nathan. Actually, don’t even try.” Monty muttered, stepping forward without Miller’s help. Pain shot up his back but he bit his cries back.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree, Mont,” Miller spoke smugly. As Monty took another step forward, a hand draped onto his back. Monty stopped to turn, but another hand grasped under his knees and Monty was upheaved from the trail.

“Nathan.” Monty groaned, hands flying to his face. “Put me down right now.”

“Sorry, I can’t. You can’t walk, remember?” Miller said, glancing down at him. Monty analyzed the body language as ‘teasing’.

Monty muttered, “I can walk perfectly fine.”

“You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.” Miller laughed, and Monty felt the chuckle vibrate through his whole body. The feeling allowed the fight to drain from him; instead, he rested his head against Miller’s chest and enjoyed the free lift.

It was silent between the two as they made their descent down the mountain until Miller spoke up. Monty felt the boy tense beneath him. Nervous.

“About what I was saying earlier . . .”

Monty tensed along with Miller. Should he be honest? What if he scared him away? With a sigh, Monty nodded. Honesty is the best policy. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was, uh, nice, actually.”

Miller released a breath. Relieved. “Okay, cool.”

“Yeah. Last night was, um, difficult. But you being there helped a lot.” Monty admitted quietly, shifting in Miller’s arms anxiously.

“Was it because of the storm?” Miller asked, voice soft.

He nodded into the boy’s chest, not trusting his words. They had reached the end of the mountain and found the path that led back to the lake and their camping spot.

“Well, I’m glad I could help, then.”

Miller had only recently joined the friend group just before his parent’s death. When Clarke started dating Bellamy, Miller always hovered around. Monty, knowing what it felt like to third wheel with Jasper and whatever girl he was with at the time, quickly befriended Miller to put the both of them out of misery. Miller had been put off at first, ignoring most of Monty’s attempts to befriend the guy, but they eventually realized they had a lot of common interests and hobbies and the two swiftly became best friends.

Of course Jasper and Bellamy were still their best friends, as well, but the relationship between Monty and Miller was more, somehow. Now, Monty wondered if it had always been because the two liked each other more than as just friends. Back then, he never could have even thought about that possibility. Monty had only been crushing on him since the moment he laid eyes on the attractive guy.

Reaching their spot, they found Bellamy and Jasper awake, sitting beside a growing campfire, and Lincoln and Octavia hanging up a line for this soaked belongings.

“Whoa, what happened?” Bellamy asked, standing up from the log. His hair was a shaggy mess of black curls, and the old t-shirt he was wearing was clearly slept in. Monty could clearly see the appeal Clarke found in the Blake.

“I’m fine,” Monty spoke up before Miller could. He sent the boy a warning glance. “Just a sprained ankle; we’ll be back in a second. Just gonna go bandage it up.”

Bellamy nodded, “Alright. We’re gonna make some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Okay, thanks.” Monty smiled. Miller looked down at him, eyebrows arched. “Yes, Nathan, I’m done talking, jeez.”

“Finally,” he teased, turning away from the group.

“You gonna put me down yet or no?” Monty shifted again. “Aren’t you tired?”  
“Nope.” Miller didn’t emphasize which question he was referring to. At Monty’s tent, Miller huffed. “Open the tent.”

“Bossy.”

“Monty.”

“Alright, alright.” Monty leaned forward in Miller’s arms to push the zipper around the edge of the opening.

Ducking through, Miller eased Monty onto the ground to search for the first aid kit. Monty watched, regarding the boy’s body language again. “It should be in that white bag in the corner.”

Digging through the bag, Miller pulled out a small white box with a red plus mark on top of it. Making his way back, Miller sat beside Monty, unrolling the bandage to wrap his foot.

“I can wrap it myself, you know,” Monty said, watching Miller’s hands work carefully. Monty’s thoughts strayed to other uses of hands but quickly reeled his mind back to the situation.

Miller nodded, “I know.” He grasped Monty’s ankle carefully, angling it. He met Monty’s eyes. “But I like being able to help you, even if you can help yourself perfectly fine.”

His cheeks burned, but Monty felt his lips stretch into a smile. “Thanks.”

Returning the grin, the boy replied “no problem”, before returning back to the wrapping of Monty’s ankle.

Monty closed his eyes, trying to find the courage within himself to ask the question he’d been dying to ask all day. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his mouth. “Do you like me?”

Miller’s hands stopped moving and the boy looked up to Monty. Sitting in front of him, being so careful with him, Monty felt his heart constrict.  
“Of course I like you.” It was a statement, but it came out as a confused question.

“No . . .” Monty blushed, continuing. “I mean, like . . .”

“Like?”

Monty groaned, his hands wringing together anxiously. “You know what I mean.”

Miller grinned. “I know. But don’t you know?”

“Know what?” Monty asked, trying to keep his voice even.

The boy shook his head. Monty examined his posture: baffled? “I thought I was being very obvious last night when I kissed you.”

Monty’s throat constricted. “Oh,”

“Oh.”

“Right.” Monty nodded. “Right, of course.”

Miller’s hand gripped Monty’s leg just above his ankle, causing Monty to meet his eyes. “Do you like me, Monty?”

He didn’t know whether he could trust his voice anymore. Slowly, Miller picked himself up from the floor and moved closer to Monty. Kneeing down in front of him, Miller picked Monty’s hand off from the floor and held it firmly, playing with his fingers. Monty met Miller’s eyes again, and the boy repeated, “Do you like me, Monty?”

Monty nodded shyly, torn between wanting to look away and never leaving Miller’s gaze again. It didn’t matter, because he did neither. Instead, Monty closed his eyes and leaned forward, following Miller’s lead.

It was natural, this time around. Their noses brushed but it didn’t stop them. Monty’s lips met Miller’s— Nathan’s— soft and warm, almost a replica of their first. But, this kiss had a sense of something more. Monty couldn’t place it.

Miller’s hand trailed up to grasp behind Monty’s neck, pulling the boy closer to him. He couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. This was Nathan. This was right.

Monty tugged on Miller’s shirt, bringing him flush against him. He didn’t know where the confidence came from, but he supposed everything came naturally when it involved Nathan.

Slowly, Miller pulled away and rested his head against Monty’s, breathing irregularly.

With a hand still at the back of Monty’s neck, Miller confessed. “I really, really like you Monty. I have for a while.”

Heart thudding wildly, Monty smiled sheepishly. “I’ve really, really liked you for a while, too.

Miller laughed. “Why didn’t you ever make a move?”

His eyebrows lifting, Monty asked incredulously, “Do I really seem like the type to make a move on someone?”

Grinning, Miller leaned in again, pressing a slow, soft kiss to Monty’s lips. His eyes were a warm, hazel brown and Monty couldn’t look away. Moving the bangs out of Monty’s eyes, Miller pulled away and shifted back down to Monty’s ankle, finishing the job. Monty regarded his body language once again: Happy.

Seconds later, Bellamy’s head poked into the tent, completely oblivious of the moment that had just passed between the two boys in the tent. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”


End file.
